


A Name for Forever

by merelypassingtime



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Amputee Bucky Barnes, Civilian Clint Barton, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Modern Era, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unofficial Sequel, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, animal rescue au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29125794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime
Summary: A couple years after Bucky comes into Clint’s cat rescue and life, Bucky’s skill at naming their kittens nets them a famous customer and Clint decides to put that same skill to the test.A sequel toMaking Me A Habit, by Kangofu_CB
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 28
Kudos: 85





	A Name for Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kangofu_CB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Making Me A Habit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706253) by [Kangofu_CB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/pseuds/Kangofu_CB). 



> I’ve not written a fanfic for another fanfic before, but I was so enchanted when I read _Making Me A Habit_ that I didn’t want to leave that universe.  
> While this likely could be read as a standalone, why would you want to miss reading such a lovely work? ;)  
> Thanks so much to Kangofu_CB for graciously allowing me to linger in her world and for supporting my end product.

Clint put the phone down on its charging cradle, stunned. Immediately, a black paw reached up and knocked it off the desk.

“Aw, Bucket, no,” he sighed. 

The cat gave him an unimpressed look, then deliberately reached a paw for the framed picture of him and Kate at the range.

“Bucket!” Clint shrieked, grabbing the picture before it could fall.

From the next room, Bucky corrected him. “Her name’s Nightingale.”

“More like Nightmare.”

“How can you say that about my baby?” Bucky demanded, his voice growing louder.

“Because it’s true,” Clint muttered without much feeling.

It was hard to hold a grudge when the second Bucky appeared in the doorway the dumb cat meowed happily and Bucky beamed down at her.

When Clint had started CATastrophe he’d promised Nat that he wasn’t going to keep any of the cats for himself and, in her words, “Take that small but vital step from ‘helpful cat lover’ to ‘crazy cat lady.’” And he’d done pretty well sticking to that until he’d seen Bucky smile for the first time down at the little furry menace who was at that very moment twining around his ankles looking up at him adoringly.

In the end, Clint couldn’t let go of anything that made Bucky happy, just like he couldn’t really blame Bucket for so clearly favoring Bucky over him. Even after more than two years, he still had to fight the urge to jump up and go twine around Bucky himself.

As Clint manfully held himself back, Bucky leaned over to pet the loudly complaining cat, only for her to jump on his back and meow demandingly right in his ear.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky said with a laugh. “Hold your horses.”

He reached back to hold open the hood of his hoodie so she could crawl in. Once she was settled he straightened up slowly so she wouldn’t fall out. It was a system the two of them had worked out after she’d gotten too big to ride on his shoulder, and it was now a well practiced maneuver. When he was standing straight again, his spoiled cat lounged inside his hood, her head on Bucky’s shoulder so she could look haughty over at Clint.

“She’s gonna forget how to walk if you keep letting her do that,” Clint sniffed.

Bucky shrugged. “She’s too pretty to walk anyway. Who was on the phone, doll? You sounded upset.” 

Glaring over at the wall they shared with the cell phone place, Bucky added, “If it was that tracksuited jackass complaining about the barking again, tell him if he calls the ASPCA on us again I’m gonna put in a call to Peggy and get her to investigate all those ‘shipments’ they’re getting from Slovenia.”

“No, it wasn’t them,” Clint said. “You’re not gonna believe it, but that was Tony Stark. Like THE Tony Stark.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“No, really! I didn’t believe it at first either, but it really was him.”

“Sure,” Bucky said. “Was it about the crazy night of passion we had before I was deployed? Because I told him then it was a one time thing and I’m pretty sure the restraining order is still in effect.”

“Really?” Clint asked.

“No, of course not really!”

“Awesome, because he’s on his way here right now.”

When Bucky still looked disbelieving, Clint added, “I’m dead fucking serious.”

Comprehension dawned on Bucky’s face followed closely by the same sort of panic Clint was feeling. “Fuck! Why? Is it about the post with Tiny Tony, because I swear I got the picture from Google, I didn’t know it was copyrighted or anything.”

On Tuesday, Bucky had posted pictures of their newly adoptable kittens on CATastrophe's Twitter including a little tuxedo kitten with a white face and black chin that looked a little like a goatee. Bucky, with his usual flair, had named the kitten Tiny Tony and picked a picture of the kitten with his mouth open wide in yawn and posted it right next to a picture of Tony Stark yelling something while in a tux of his own.

“It is about the picture,” Clint started, and Bucky looked stricken so he rushed to add, “But nothing bad about it! He actually wants to adopt Tiny Tony.”

“I- wait, what?” 

Clint repeated, “Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, is on his way here to our little rescue so he can adopt a cat.”

“Shit, shit, shit!” Bucky swore, and Clint had to agree. “When is he gonna be here?”

“I don’t know, he just asked if he could stop by.”

“And you didn’t ask when?!”

“No, Bucky, I didn’t. But at least I didn’t remind him about my restraining order.”

For a moment, Bucky was outraged, then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, it was with a wry smile.   
“Okay fair point. So, what do we need to do?”

When Clint shrugged helplessly, Bucky took a step forward to pull him into a hug, both of them ignoring Bucket’s protests.

“Hey,” Bucky said right next to his ear, “it’s all gonna be okay.”

Clint took a deep breath, somehow as grounded as much by the scent of Bucky’s shampoo as by his touch. “Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

“Great. So, if this were any other potential adoption, what would we do?”

“I dunno. Make sure the visiting room is clean? Maybe give everything else a quick clean too if there’s time.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay, so let’s do that. You start some coffee and I’ll start cleaning.”

“Yeah, okay,” Clint said, his voice a little stronger.

There was a long moment, then Bucky said, “You know that means you’re gonna have to let go of me.”

“Aww, no.”

“Yes, you’ll have to eventually.”

“Wanna bet?” Clint challenged.

“Bet what? That we can make coffee and clean while still hugging?”

“Sure.”

Bucky bit his lip considering and Clint suddenly wanted to do a lot more than hug. 

He was doubly disappointed when Bucky reluctantly said, “Maybe another day, doll.”

“Fine,” Clint sighed.

He planted a kiss on Bucky’s stubbly cheek, earning another displeased merrow from the cat he refused to call Nightingale, before turning back to the fancy new coffee machine Steve and Sam had given them for the holidays to brew a new pot.

The next few hours were spent in a flurry of cleaning, nerves, and caffeine.

Even with as many animals as they housed, the place wasn’t all that dirty, but there was always something that needed doing, and it was better keeping busy than it would have been sitting around and worrying.

Still, as their usual closing time approached they both started running out of busy work and the worry set in anyway. 

Bucky was folding the towels they seemed to fly through at the big table in the main playroom, trying to look calm. He was checking the door too often to really pull it off though, so Clint knew it was an act for his benefit.

He wasn’t even bothering to pretend.

He paced up and down the small front room. The puppies were still out, gamboling after him happily, but most of the cats had already been kenneled for the night. The handful still out ignored him with the exception of the particularly adventurous tabby who was busy stalking his movements.

“Do you think he meant tomorrow?” Clint asked not for the first time

“I don’t know,” Bucky replied, also not for the first time

“Maybe it was a prank.”

“Why would someone do that?”

Clint threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know.”

He paced and Bucky folded for another few minutes, before Clint broke the silence again. “Do you think we should stay open late? Just in case.”

“Probably,” Bucky agreed easily.

That surprised Clint, he knew how Bucky hated to vary their routine.

Bucky rolled his eyes back. “You’d just fidget yourself to death if we went home.”

Clint thought about that, about the little apartment that had been Bucky’s but that now was undeniably theirs, with old posters from his circus days hung on the walls next to paintings from Steve, his back up bow tucked away in the hall closet with Bucky’s old combat boots, his purple tees mixed in the laundry basket with Bucky’s black hoodies. It was the first place he could remember living that had genuinely felt like a home, soothing and safe. Privately, he knew that feeling probably has more to do with Bucky than the apartment itself though, and apparently Bucky was willing to stay right here with him.

So, he shrugged and admitted, “You’re probably right. I’d feel better hanging around here a bit longer.”

“How about we sleep here tonight?” Bucky offered with a shrug of his own. “We can order pizza and keep the kitties company. Been awhile since we put the Murphy bed to good use.”

Clint, remembering what that use had been, leered. “Yeah, that sounds like an excellent plan. How about we-”

Of course that’s when the bell above the door chined, cutting him off as Tony Stark walked in.

Clint glanced out the window and saw a slick red sports car pulling off outside and for a moment was irrationally disappointed that Tony hadn’t come in his Iron Man suit. The thought faded quickly when faced with the man himself.

Somehow Tony Stark just took up more space then he should have, his personality and incredible energy making the room feel even more crowded before he’d even spoken a word. 

It took a second for Clint to even register the woman who walked in behind him, but when he did an almost comical double take. “Pepper Potts!”

“That’s refreshing,” the woman said, even as Stark’s expression morphed from shock to outrage to humor almost faster than the human eye could track.

_Shit_ , Clint thought even as he quickly started to apologize. “No! Sorry, Mr Stark. I just mean that I was expecting you, and I wasn’t expecting her. Not that I’m not happy of course-”

Mercifully, an amused Bucky cut him off. Stepping up next to Clint, he said, “Welcome to Clint’s CATastrophe, both of you. I’m Bucky, and that’s Clint. As you can guess, he’s the one behind the shop name.”

“Hey!” Clint objected automatically. “I’m not always a catastrophe.”

“No, but you are always Clint,” Bucky said with one of the lopsided grins Clint loved. That was completely unfair, Clint couldn’t stay mad at that smile. 

“Nice to meet you both,” Pepper said, offering her hand to shake. “I’m Pepper, as you seem to already know, and this is Tony, who you may not know.”

Tony rolled his eyes even as he shook their hands. “Sorry, I meant to be here right after I called but _someone_ caught me sneaking out and stopped me.”

“He had a meeting,” Pepper explained.

“It wasn’t important.”

“It really was, Tony.”

“I was only there to look pretty.”

“And you do it so well,” Pepper said, kissing his cheek. “Besides, bringing home a kitten without asking me first wouldn’t have been a great idea.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, that’s actually on the adoption paperwork. We don’t let anyone through unless we get permission from everyone in the household.”

“No surprise gift kittens?” Tony asked. “How boring.”

“Too often it doesn’t work out,” Clint explained.

“I appreciate that,” Pepper said. “Though, really, it wouldn’t be anywhere close to the most inappropriate thing Tony has brought home.”

Tony turned sad eyes towards Pepper. “Is this about the stuffed animal I got you for Christmas?”

“No. All things considered, that was pretty tame.”

“So you mean the-”

Pepper rested a hand on his arm. “If we start on a list of the weird stuff you’re dragged home over the years, we’re going to keep these poor gentlemen here all night.”

Clint started to say he wouldn’t mind, but then thought again about how much more relaxed Bucky was when they got out on time and said instead, “Well, we usually start with a little interview, then do a visit with the kitten in question, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Pepper said. “Lead away.”

A couple years ago, Clint would’ve taken them into his office to answer the questions but since he’d got the Murphy bed in there, and, more specifically, since Bucky had started occasionally sharing that bed with him, he found it a lot more difficult to focus in there. So, instead he ushered the couple over to the little visiting room he and Bucky had made by closing one side of the big playroom off with a sliding door so potential adopters could spend some time with the kittens one on one. 

Even as unusually clean as it was, the room was still as small and cramped as everything else in the place, but Pepper and Tony settled on the hard wooden bench he’d salvaged from a closing restaurant without any sort of judgement.

Grabbing the clipboard with the questionnaires on it, Clint moved a basket of cat toys off the folding chair wedged in the corner and sat down, only then realizing he’d forgotten to get a pen too. The second he thought it, a pen appeared magically in front of him, and he looked up to see Bucky leaning against the wall next to him, one eyebrow raised as he offered the pen. Clint smiled sheepishly back at him as he took it.

“Do you have any pets?” he asked, slipping into assessment mode.

“Not right now,” Pepper answered, “though my family did have a cat when I was growing up.”

Clint skipped a few questions down to check the box for **previous cat owner** before turning to Tony. “And you? Did you have any pets growing up?”

“Do robots count?”

Startled, Clint paused. Bucky did not. 

“You have robots?!” he asked, with an edge of excitement. 

Before Clint could object to getting off topic, Tony was well started on a detailed description of the robots he’d built, which Bucky was listening to raptly. The big nerd. Clint loved him so much it hurt.

Pepper seemed to be thinking about the same thing, smiling over at her husband with the sort of fond amusement that Clint could feel on his own face.

By the time Tony had his phone and was showing Bucky pictures of the bots, Clint had already made his decision. 

He quickly scanned through the rest of the questionnaire and directed the only other completely necessary question to Pepper directly. “Neither of you are prohibited from owning pets in the state of New York, right?”

Still looking at Tony, Pepper said, “Well, Tony isn’t allowed to have alpacas again, but that’s more a personal rule of my own.”

Tony interrupted whatever he’d been saying to Bucky about robotic limbs and neural integration that had Bucky looking excited and nervous to object. “There was nothing wrong with Gerald!”

“I never said there was, dear.”

“You just did! You said I can’t have any more alpacas.”

“Lucky, that we’re here about a cat then isn’t it?” she replied. “Unless Clint here happens to have some alpacas you’d like to look at instead.”

“Sorry,” Clint said. “I mean we’ve got a few llamas in the back, but fresh out of alpaca.”

“Surprising demand for them in Brooklyn,” Bucky added dryly.

When Tony started to argue more, Pepper said quellingly, “Cats are better anyway. Might we be able to see him today?”

Clint looked a question at Bucky, who shrugged in agreement and started back towards the kennels. 

“Of course,” Clint said. “Bucky’s getting him. Let me give you some cat treats to sorta break the ice and you guys can visit as long as you’d like.”

When Bucky returned with Tiny Tony cradled to his chest, Clint stepped out of the visiting room, leaving the glass door open just enough for Bucky to set the kitten down before Clint slid it shut the rest of the way.

For a long moment, everyone held their breath as the little kitten looked around curiously. Then he bounded by where Tony was sitting on the floor holding out a treat to flop himself right across Pepper’s probably very expensive shoes, purring loudly.

“Hey!” Tony objected.

Pepper reached down to scratch under the kitten’s chin, causing the purring to get even louder. “He has good taste.”

“And it’s clear you’re clearly irresistible to anyone named Tony.” 

“So, you think if I called Anthony Mackie…” Pepper trailed off, her face musing.

When Tony squawked, she broke into a smile.

With a devilish look, Bucky signed, “Introduce her to Sam?”

Clint shook his head and whispered back. “Steve would kill us.”

“Annoying Steve is a pretty good reason to do anything,” Bucky pointed out.

“Yeah, but not good enough to die for.”

“Coward,” Bucky said. 

Clint rolled his eyes and gently nudged Bucky back toward the other end of the room. “Come on, sweetheart, I’ll help you fold the rest of the towels while they get to know each other.”

Bucky huffed in fake exasperation, but he still leaned up against Clint, wrapping his arm around Clint’s waist as they walked back to the table piled high with towels.

Clint felt the warmth of him pressed to his side as much as he felt a warmth in his chest like he always did when Bucky did something to prove how much more comfortable was now then he’d been the first time Clint saw him standing frozen in the street in front of the rescue.

He remembered it clearly; an ordinary, too busy day right up to the point when Lucky had started woofing in his quiet way at something through the window.

Clint had been breaking up a cat fight at the time, and it had taken several minutes for him to separate the fighters and to grab a bandaid from the huge box Nat had given him to cover his fresh battle wounds before he could see what had Lucky’s interest.

By then Bucky had a couple of people hoovering nervously near him, trading worried glances. 

Still, for all his obvious distress, it had been easy enough to talk Bucky back into the building with the same voice he used less successfully to coax cats all day, and Clint would never forget the moment Bucky came out of his own mind and Clint got to really see into his beautiful eyes.

He’d known right then his heart was already gone.

Those same eyes looked at him now, the lines around them now more from laughter than stress and the shadows both under them and hidden in their depths nearly gone. 

Now, when Bucky grinned at him, it was an expression full of joy, with a heavy dose of humor and so much love that it still made a small part of Clint want to run away scared. 

Man, Bucky was right: Clint was a coward. 

For years Bucky had done nothing but trust Clint, even though he had so much more reason to never trust anyone. Instead, he had welcomed Clint into his life, had shared his time, his family, and even his home with him without reservation.

Yet here was Clint, constantly waiting for Bucky to see how much of a disaster he was and finally leave him for someone better, smarter, less broken.

Well, if Bucky was strong enough to trust Clint with his heart, Clint could be strong enough to trust Bucky with his and to let himself believe that, as incredible as it seemed, he might be exactly the man Bucky wanted. 

And God knows, Clint wanted Bucky. Needed him, really, like he needed air, or sunshine, or coffee. 

So, even if he was so much less than the man Bucky deserved, it was still past time Clint let him know that he never wanted to picture a future without Bucky in it.

“Clint?” Bucky asked uncertainly.

Clint realized that they were standing by the table and that he was staring at Bucky with no idea how long he’d been doing it. He cleared his throat and started to ask him right then, but a burst of laughter from the visiting room reminded him they weren’t alone. 

Instead he made his face relax and said, “Sorry, I was trying to remember if there was another load in the dryer.”

“Nope, this was the last of them,” Bucky said, still puzzled.

“Awesome, then let’s try to get them folded before they get too much more fur on them,” Clint said, gesturing at where the pile of towels was now covered in dozing felines.

“A little fur never hurt anyone.” Bucky muttered.

“I’m pretty sure Steve and his allergies wouldn’t agree.”

“He would if it was dog hair, the punk.”

Clint shrugged in agreement. 

He knew Bucky had been surprised it took so long for Steve to cave in and adopt a dog from them. In fact, he’d held out until they’d gotten a pair of collie mixes that Bucky had instantly earmarked for him. Bucky had named them Truth and Justice, which Steve hadn’t found funny, but that Sam thought it hilarious. The names had stuck.

Even with two active dogs, Steve still came every weekend to play with all the other puppies, and Sam came with him. He said it to stop Steve from coming home with another dog, Bucky said it was so he could complain about everything, and Clint was pretty sure it was so Sam could check up on Bucky.

“I still don’t know why he likes dogs when cats are so much better,” Bucky said, launching into his well worn monologue on the superiority of cats. 

Clint, who might prefer dogs a little himself, only nodded along in all the right places as Bucky ranted and they folded.

Together they made quick work of the whole pile, even after it became less about folding and more a game of dragging the towels across the table while the cats attacked them and occasionally Clint. For some reason they almost never attacked Bucky. 

Clint, nursing a fresh claw mark on his arm, said, “They don’t attack you because you’re secretly Snow White, admit it.”

“Do I need to get another bandaid?” Bucky askes, ignoring the question.

“No, it’s just a flesh wound. But seriously, you’re Snow White, aren’t you? I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, you’ve got the hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, and, man, those lips… Snow White all the way.”

Bucky swatted his shoulder. “If I’m Snow White, then that makes you one of the seven dwarfs.”

“Hey, no! I’m too tall to be a dwarf. I’d say that I’m Prince Charming instead, but we all know you’re the charming one too.”

“Whatever you say, Clumsy,” Bucky shot back, but he was still blushing, so Clint decided he’d won.

After the towels were put away, they rounded the last of the cats and all the puppies up into their kennels, did the last feeding of the day, and were standing around awkwardly trying to find something else to do when Pepper slid open the door to walk out of the visiting room towards them. 

Behind her, Tony was sprawled across the floor that Clint was glad he’d mopped that afternoon, headless of his suit while he gently scratched behind the ears of the tiny ball of black and white fluff dozing in the middle of his chest.

“Well,” she said, “we’d definitely like to adopt him.”

“Awesome!” Clint said. “I had a feeling that might be the case. We usually do a background check before we let any of our cats go home with someone, but I can’t really imagine it’s gonna turn out your apartment doesn’t allow pets or something.”

Pepper smiled. “I mean, the building does have a mind of its own, but I’m pretty sure Jarvis would have said something if he minded.”

This time Clint did stop Bucky from asking any follow up questions to that by quickly saying, “Okay, so I have an adoption kit and all the paperwork right here.”

They were going through the paperwork when Tony appeared cradling the now sleeping kitten to his chest. 

“A contract?” he asked. “Should I get a lawyer here?”

“No?” Clint asked more than said, not entirely sure he was kidding.

Bucky said helpfully, “Yeah, we took out the part about your immortal soul.”

“Guess we’re pretty safe then,” Tony snorted as he took the offered pen. “And I assume there’s an adoption fee too?”

“Yeah,” Clint said, feeling as awkward as he always did, “It help us keep the doors open and supports-”

Tony cut him off already holding out a check, “No need to explain.”

“Whoa,” Clint said, staring at the check. “That’s a few too many zeros.”

“Not for a Stark,” Tony said, nodding loftily down at the sleeping kitten, who gave a disgruntled noise at being jostled.

“I don’t think we can acc-” Clint started, only for Bucky to cut him off this time.

Snagging the check out of Clint’s hand, Bucky said, “The kitties thank you very much and so do we.”

“No, thank you,” Pepper said, sounding genuinely happy. “I’ve been trying to get this idiot to agree to a pet for years.”

“Pepper!” Tony said scandalized. “No belittling me in front of the baby!”

Pepper shook her head fondly. “Come on, Tony, let’s get Tiny home.”

Clint offered them a cardboard carrier for the trip home, which Tony seemed to take as a mortal affront to Tiny’s dignity and insisted on holding him for the trip home. Pepper gave him an apologetic shrug, which Clint had returned with a wink as he held open the door for the new family to leave.

As he locked the door for the night behind then, Bucky came up beside him and they stood together watching as Tony carefully handed Tiny over to Pepper before climbing in the driver’s seat while a long suffering bodyguard folded himself into the backseat.

When the car peeled away from the curb and started weaving away through the traffic, Clint said, “Huh, maybe we should make checking for traffic violates a part of the background check.”

“Whatever,” Bucky scoffed. “I bet that’s the safest car in existence.”

“Probably, I mean it was built by Tony freaking Stark.”

“Steve’s not gonna believe me when I tell him about this. We should’ve got a picture or autograph or something. Then we could’ve posted it on our Twitter too.”

“At least we know that, thanks to you, Tiny is going to a great home,” Clint said.

“See,” Bucky said, “I told you they just needed better names.”

“You’re the best at naming, I admit it.”

Bucky, smiled smugly.

Thinking about how much he loved that smile, Clint swallowed, then continued with fake nonchalance. “Actually, while you’re on a roll, we do have one more animal here who needs a new name.”

“Really?” Bucky asked “I thought we were all caught up on names. Did someone new come in?”

“No, nobody new.”

Bucky glared at him suspiciously. “You better not be trying to get me to rename Nightingale again.”

“No, there’s another animal who’s been here forever. He’s kinda big and kinda dumb and kinda deaf, and I was starting to worry he’d never find someone who’d want him, but I think he’s found a forever home now.”

“Oh,” Bucky whispered. “Clint, I-”

But Clint kept going. “He’ll need a new name though. I was sorta hoping it could be ‘Clint Barton-Barnes’?”

Clint could see that Bucky was blinking back tears and for a horrible second he thought maybe he’d make a mistake. Then Bucky took a deep breath and said, “You know what, doll? I think that is the perfect name.”

Clint exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and smiled. “Awesome, I was hoping you’d agree.”

When Bucky just stood there, smiling back with tears still running down his cheeks, Clint took a step closer and added, “Now, I might be wrong, but I think this is the part where you kiss me.”

And Bucky did.

**Epilogue**

Usually they changed the photos on the naughty/nice board that hung in their front window on Mondays, then Bucky posted a picture of it on their Twitter. This week though, Bucky had the idea to change the sign a few days early, because all the good ideas in Clint’s life seemed to come from Bucky.

So, the morning after he’d proposed, Bucky put up a shot of the board with a picture of Clint, looking sheepish but happy, on the _Naughty Furball of the Week_ side. Written underneath it in Bucky’s cramped penmanship was, _Sprang a proposal on his partner without so much as getting down on one knee._

Next to that, under _Furry Friend of the Week_ was a smiling Bucky and Clint’s crooked handwriting that read, _Said yes anyway!_

Within five seconds of putting the new poster up on their Twitter Natasha had texted Clint a single smiling cat emoji. Bucky had to wait a whole minute before Steve called him, then had to sit through several minutes of incoherent happy noises before Steve could congratulate him with actual words.

Yeah, nothing against Steve, but Clint had clearly won at best friends.

After that the congratulations had poured in, and the post had quickly become their most retweeted. Or, it did for a few hours, until that afternoon when Tony tweeted a picture of Tiny Tony sitting inside his Iron Man helmet with text, _I am Iron Cat._ with a thanks to CATastrophe. The tweet had quickly gone viral, and Clint and Bucky had been just as quickly overwhelmed with calls and customers.

The whole weekend after that had been madness, and even though they called in all their friends to help, Clint could only remember bits and pieces amid the chaos.

The bearhug Steve had given him when he and Sam showed up way too early Saturday morning to help stood out vividly in his mind, partly because it had been tight enough to make him worry about his too frequently broken ribs and partly because of his surprise when Steve had let go only for Sam to immediately fold him into another hug almost as crushing.

He also clearly remembered wandering into the office Natasha had claimed so she could run instant background checks for a refill of his coffee and listening to her ask a prospective adopter, “So, about your 2016 taxes, where you claimed tickets to Hamilton as a business expense, is that the sort of dishonesty I’ll find on your adoption application?”

He’d felt better about all the homes their kittens were going to after that.

Not as good as he’d felt on Saturday though when a group of federal agents had raided the cell phone store next door for money laundering. Then things had only gotten better when a second team had showed up ten minutes later to charge them with international smuggling too. 

Clint turned from the action just in time to see Steve and Bucky’s old friend Peggy, who was visiting from out of town, give Natasha a small nod of acknowledgement and to glimpse a tiny smile of victory flit across Nat’s face in return.

He was pretty sure the two of them were going to be good friends.

God help them all.

The next thing he knew it Sunday afternoon and every animal they’d had up for adoption had found a home.

In celebration of that and their engagement, Steve and Sam had insisted on holding a rooftop cookout, even if the weather was still a little cold for it. So, Clint and Bucky had bundled up, closed up the strangely quiet rescue, and headed over to Steve’s building.

Now, Clint wove through the crowd accepting congratulations and trying his best not to be drawn into the latest ‘discussion’ between Gabe and Dernier. He was on a mission, and didn’t relax fully until he was sitting back down on the ledge next to Bucky.

He handed him one of the bottles of beer he’d grabbed while he twisted the top off the other, then traded Bucky for the still closed one. As Clint opened his bottle, Bucky took a sip with an exaggerated wince. 

Shaking his head, he said, “Fucking hipster beer.”

“You mean, awesome free beer,” Clint corrected him mildly.

“You have no taste.”

“Maybe not in beer,” Clint admitted, “but I have the best taste in fiances.”

Clint watched Bucky’s face as he started to make what Clint knew was going to be a self-deprecating remark, only to swallow it back.

“I’ll drink to that,” he said instead, looking shy but pleased and Clint’s heart ached with love for this amazing man.

They clinked bottles together and as they drank Bucky shifted closer, resting his head on Clint’s shoulder. Clint wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Sitting there in their little pocket of quiet amid the noise and bustle of their friends, watching the light fade from the sky while holding his future husband, Clint had never been more happy.


End file.
